Faded and Gone
by Faerlas
Summary: All things must pass away. All life is doomed to fade. Sorrowing you must go, and yet, you are not with out hope... Thoughtful little one shot I wrote last spring! Tis good, short read for an autumn afternoon. Thranduil appearance. R&R, ARA, No flames!


**Faded and Gone**

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_Authors note: Wrote this while ill about 5 months ago. Yeah… Review, don't flame. Thanks._

It was the end of the fourth age of Middle-earth. Thranduil, the stubborn son of the stubborn king Oropher, still sat on the throne. The elves, all the elves yet in Middle-earth lived in _Eryn Lasgalan_ and they were few. The handful that were left were but a shadow of their kin that had sailed long ago.

All in Middle-earth was but a shadow of what it had been long ago. Gondor was just a shadow of its former self. The once illustrious kingdom was now no better than the kingdoms of lesser men. The race of Numenor was now vanished from the earth. The king of Gondor still had the blood of Tinuviel in his veins, but it meant nothing. Rohan had grown in size. So much so that it had split into two kingdoms. The older one yet having the capitol of Edoras, and the other being in the north, where the men of Rohan had first come. All the old things that had once been the glory and splendor of both kingdoms were now fallen into decay. New towers had been erected, new kings were on the thrones, and the tales of the glory and majesty of all kingdoms and lands was now legend. Remembered only by King Thranduil who had gotten a full account of these things from his son Legolas.

The Lonely Mountain, home of the race of Durin's folk, was abandoned once more. The dwarves were now so few that they were hardly worth mentioning. Men dominated the world.

The Shire, which had once been full of the ever hopeful Halflings, was almost gone. The Hobbits had diminished greatly after the sailing of Samwise Gamgee. He had naught to do with it, but after he left the hobbits grew more and more rustic and became smaller, some of them, and others larger, to the size of a small man. They that were so tall simply lived as men and married into them. The ones that kept to themselves and continued to shrink in size, until they became quite small and of legend.

The knowledge, lore, and wisdom of the first three ages of the world was but a faint whisper to be heard in places where old forests yet grew.

The race of men had dominion over all, and in lands previously uninhabited became inhabited as men multiplied and all other creatures shrank. All was changing. The goblins, now almost extinct, hid in the last dark crevices of the earth. Dragons, which were still about, became the terrors of deep forests and mountain passages. All creatures non human became objects of fear to the race of men, and were sought to be stamped out by some, and avoided and forgotten entirely by others. If one was lucky, they would run across a human that believed the tales from the Eldar days, or the Second and Third ages of Middle-earth, and wanted to meet such creatures as Hobbits and Elves, but they were few.

Thranduil sat on his throne and thought about all that was coming to pass. Men were now surrounding his kingdom. His folk were forgotten or feared by them, and the king was at last considering what he should do. His domain could not survive as it stood right now, and all the elven refuges of old were fading… if not gone. At last he made his decision and called all his people together.

"My loyal subjects, most of you realize that we no longer fit in this world. This realm can no longer exist as it now stands. I understand now why all the rest of our kin has departed. Thus, it is with grieving heart I say unto you all, this is the end. I at last shall sail and with my sailing I do dissolve this kingdom. All who wish to come with me may, and all who do not may pick a leader and follow him to whatever end. I am abdicating the throne. Farewell," he said as he stepped down from the platform. He took off his crown and cast it on the ground. It hit the ground and broke, for it was only woven of autumn leaves.

His subjects sat in shock at what they just heard. Instantly everyone splintered off into the groups they saw fit. Thranduil that day left _Eryn Lasgalan _on foot and walked away towards the Sea, with a modest following behind him.

As he walked, he felt glad, and light hearted, for he at last would see his beloved son again. He then wondered why he hadn't sailed an age ago. He also felt sad, for he loved Middle-earth and did not want to leave it. He had worked so hard to preserve his land, and it came to naught anyway. He lifted up his voice in a bitter sweet song as he and his followers walked towards the western Sea.

As they traveled, they passed human towns innumerable and at each town they passed they were met with strange looks. The men could see the elves, but they were far away… faded almost, but yet very real. Their strange song, their strange but fair voices which had not been commonly heard in two thousand years was enchanting and frightening to them. Many avoided them all together, some watched with uneasiness, and a few watched with sadness, for they realized the last elves to leave were doing so.

At length they reached the Sea, built a ship, and sailed away to be forever happy in Valinor.

The rest of the elves splintered off. Some wandered endlessly, looking for a land to settle in and finding none. Some married into the race of men, and some simply stayed. All faded into legend.

At times an elf that still was around would hear the tales of elves and men and laughs in his heart at how distorted they have become. At times they could be seen in a glint of moon light or starlight for but a moment then are gone. They have all faded and are now nearly invisible to the human eye, but at times one may catch a glimpse. But the glory and splendor is gone from that race entirely. They are now entrancing dreams that float in the breeze. All of Middle-earth has suffered the same fate, for it was the elves and blood of Numenor that kept it and preserved it, but when it faded, so did that world itself. It has been washed away now by the tides of time.

Now only the stars and the sun and the moon recall those days of old. The only traces left to be seen of the majesty of Middle-earth are in the sparkling waters of the Sea at sunset and in the strange ways the moon glows on a summer's night. It no longer exists, but it shall never die. It is faded, but never gone.

_Authors note: Do not take this as some sort of final farewell to fanfiction from me. As I said, written while ill. And I've been holding onto it for a while knowing I'd be off to college soon and unable to write. Anyway, reviews are loved, flames are unwelcomed, and anonimity is fine! (did I spell anonimity right?) LOL!_


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